John O'Boyle / The Star-LedgerDustin Johnson was the latest to fall victim to golf's silly rules.

The rules of golf are sacred and celebrated, honored and revered, and too often lately, just plain dumb.

Dustin Johnson loses on the final hole of the PGA Championship because he grounded his club in a “sand trap” that looked more like a front lawn you’d find in a trailer park.

Juli Inkster is disqualified from a tournament in Oregon because some couch potato watching the Golf Channel saw her use a “donut” on her club to keep loose during a long wait.

What’s next? An official sprinting onto the 72nd hole at Ridgewood Country Club this weekend, assessing the leader at The Barclays a two-shot penalty for failing to properly tighten his spikes?

Golf is a proud game because of its rules, but the people in charge shouldn’t let those rules smother the sport. To say they’ve been a bit analretentive is an understatement.

Hold on. We’ve just heard from a rules official — “anal-retentive” is hyphenated. That’s a two-keystroke penalty!

It’s never a good thing when the central conversation in a sport — outside of the divorce of its biggest star, of course — revolves around the rules. That’s the situation in golf right now, a sport that needs to finally reassess its obsession with minutiae and traditions.

Johnson, with humor and grace but a bit of impatience, is still reliving his disaster at Whistling Straits.

He stepped to his ball on the final hole and saw what most TV viewers did: a well-trodden dirt path. He did not see a sand trap, because, typically, fans are not allowed to set up folding chairs and smoke cigars in sand traps.

“It’s just a tough, tough thing to make a call on,” Johnson said Tuesday. “Looking back at it now, obviously if I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t have (grounded his club) because I would know. It never crossed my mind. I’ve had a lot of people telling me the same thing.”

In fairness, the course rules were posted in the locker room. Johnson and his caddie should have been more careful. He admitted that. But how, in a major championship, can the PGA consider an area that spectators had trampled for days a hazard?

And does anybody believe that Johnson was the only player in the field to make that mistake?

The rules controversy continued on a smaller scale last week. Inkster had a long wait on a par-5 hole at the LPGA Safeway Classic, and to keep loose, the 50-year-old veteran took a few practice swings with a weighted “donut” on her 9-iron while standing in the tee box.

This, according to Rule 14-3, is a no-no. Inkster, who was in contention, was sent home when the round ended for doing something that Derek Jeter does five times a game in the on-deck circle.

“I had a 30-minute wait and needed to loosen up,” she said. “It had no effect on my game whatsoever.”

Forget the “rules are rules” argument. Rules are meant to guarantee an even playing field, not give some nerd watching the Golf Channel a chance to yell “GOTCHA!” at his flat screen.

Golf is the only sport that allows a viewer to e-mail tournament officials to point out a transgression. Can you imagine a Giants fan e-mailing the NFL to point out pass interference?

It makes the playing field unlevel. Golfers who are on TV all the time, such as Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson, have far more scrutiny than the no-names who play in front of smaller crowds.

Inkster wasn’t only penalized for breaking the rule, she was penalized for her popularity.

Look, golf is proud of its rules and the honor that comes with their self-enforcement. The USGA, with input from the PGA, reviews its major rules every four years and has made significant changes, such as allowing a player to mark and identify a ball in a hazard.

We saw the game at its best this April when Brian Davis, in a playoff against Jim Furyk at the Verizon Heritage, ticked a loose reed during his backswing (hitting any material around your ball during your backswing is a no-no) and assessed himself a two-stroke penalty.

“It can be tough. It can seem unfair,” said Brad Fabel, a Tour rules official at The Barclays. “But there’s a reason for every rule. This is a game that requires very high integrity.”

But times change. Rules, like laws, become obsolete or need tweaking. Michelle Wie was disqualified once for failing to sign her scorecard before leaving the scoring area. She realized the mistake and went back, but the officials said it was too late. Wie was done.

In this era, with computerized scoring at every major event, it’s silly to keep up the facade that players are keeping their own score in their pockets. Imagine Devin Harris coming up the floor for the Nets this fall, hitting a 3-pointer and thinking, “Does that give us 93 or 94?”

Galleries want to see tournaments decided by great shots, not incorrectly signed scorecards or strange rulings. Chances are, nothing like that will happen this week at The Barclays.

The way things are going, though, the golfers might want to double-check the tightness of their spikes. Just in case that’s really a rule.